


Enjolras Gets a New Hobby

by Courfeyrock_crushes_scissors



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Crossdressing, Enjolras is a good dancer, Grantaire is a bartender, M/M, gay bars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courfeyrock_crushes_scissors/pseuds/Courfeyrock_crushes_scissors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truth or Dare can reveal interesting things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grantaire May Be The Best At Playing Truth Or Dare

Enjolras didn't know how he ended up with a beer in hand. He also couldn't remember how he ended up in a twisted game of Truth or Dare (or as 'Ferre called it, "Who Do You Like or Do A Sexual Stunt").

Currently, Courfeyrac was ordering poor little Jehan to do a striptease to "Baby" by Justin Bieber, which was currently blasting from Feuilly's ipod. Enjolras couldn't contain amusement at the moment, for people were now throwing money at the poet which caused him to become quite flustered.

Enjolras hoped he would be able to slip away during this, but as soon as he began to rise, Jehan ratted him out. "No way, Enjolras! You're staying right here!" The lithe blonde huffed softly, hands on his bare hips. Jehan had now gotten down to just a pair of floral briefs.

So the blonde leader sat back down with a resigned huff, and watched the game roll on.

The game so far consisted of himself, Jehan, Courfeyrac, Grantaire, Feuilly, Joly, and Cosette. On the opposite side of Courfeyrac's living room was Combeferre, Bahorel, Bossuet, Marius, and Eponine. It was clear that 'Ponine was winning everyone's money at the table, and poor Bossuet was already out of chips.

The song ended and Jehan did a small curtsy, tossing a pansy from his braid in the direction of Courfeyrac. Bright yellow pants and an ugly green daisy sweater were put back onto his lithe frame before he directed his attention to Grantaire.

"Grantaire! Truth or Dare!" Jehan chirped as he began tucking little wildflowers into Cosette's blonde locks.

Bottle at his mouth, the cynic took a long sip before turning back to the poet. "......Dare."

The group 'oohed' collectively, Cosette giving a small giggle when she shared a small glance with Jehan.

"I dare you to.... Wear Enjolras' underwear on your head for the rest of the game." Jehan and Courfeyrac high-fived, but Grantaire only chuckled and glanced at Enjolras before letting his gaze drop to Enjolras' lap.

"If you will permit it, Apollo." The cynic's words were followed with a devilish grin.

"I suppose." Enjolras grumbled out, getting up and moving to the bathroom to remove his undergarments.

And that is how Grantaire ended up with a bare of red briefs on his head.

Another swig of alcohol, and Grantaire's gaze fell upon Enjolras once more.

"Enjolras. Truth or dare."

The leader gave a sigh. Did he risk a secret? Knowing Grantaire, it would be harsh or completely embarrassing. Or did he risk the inevitable, a sexual act of some sort? It was a lose-lose situation, of course. Perhaps Grantaire would be too drunk to think of anything quite witty enough....

"Dare." Enjolras showed no sign of fear or hesitancy. He looked like a badass.

"Alright. I dare you to...." The pause stretched for quite a bit as the alcoholic pondered over his drink. Finally, he snapped his fingers. "I dare you to dress up in one of Cosette's evening gowns."

Everyone in the circle was now in stitches. Excluding Enjolras, of course. Cosette was laughing the most. "I'll go get the one that matches your eyes!" She giggled as she hurried off to Marius' room. She kept a few outfits at his apartment in case she ended up spending the night.

Enjolras knew it was no use protesting. However, he still sputtered and refused and practically threw a punch at that idiot Grantaire as they hauled him off to Courfeyrac's bedroom to shove him into the rather gorgeous dress.

The dress was a dark blue that came in at the middle. It had a slight ruffling throughout, and a low dipping v-neck. And Enjolras looked quite stunning in it. Though he lacked the breasts, he had nice curves for a man. He shaved regularly, including his legs. His feet were well taken care of and smooth, toenails trimmed neatly. His fingernails were the same way. With his hair flowing down to his shoulders, he looked nearly like a flat-chested woman. An extremely attractive one at that.

Blue eyes that contained unamusement were casted about the room. The card game had stopped once Bahorel had pointed out their fearless leader in the stunning dress.

No one really knew what to say. Enjolras looked genuinely attractive. He looked hot. He looked _gorgeous_.

The blonde now perched on the couch, his one leg crossed over the other like a proper lady. He had seen his mother doing the same multiple times. He had learned from her also that _if you look the part, act the part._

And so he did. If they wanted him to dress like a woman, he'd sit like one as well.

The game proceeded on, and no one commented on Enjolras' attire anymore. They were well aware that any commenting would probably guarantee them death or torture. Or blackmail. So they shut up for once, and the game only stopped once Jehan had passed out in Courfeyrac's lap and mostly everyone was too drunk to continue on with the game.

Friends began departing, designated drivers beginning to leave with drunk friends in tow. And Enjolras found himself not being able to locate his clothing. It might've been the fact he was tipsy, however. With permission from Courfeyrac, he decided to instead go to bed in Marius' room. He was going home with Cosette tonight, so the room would be empty. And there was no way that Enjolras was sleeping in Courfeyrac's room.

Enjolras entered the man's room, and went to hunt in his drawers and closet for some sort of pajamas. The dress was actually quite soft, but it wasn't his and he didn't want to wrinkle it. As he searched, he came upon the full-body mirror on the opposite wall from the closet. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of himself. He even had to admit, he looked nice. He actually _felt_ nice too.

Shaking his head, he turned back to the closet. Most of it was Cosette's stuff, really. Stilettos and dresses. Flats and floral sweaters.

Before he knew it, he was trying on a pair of strappy black high heels. And then he was at the bureau, a tube of lipstick in one hand and eyeliner in the other.

_What was he doing?_

Was he truly enjoying dressing up as a member of the opposite sex? Enjolras was all for free rights, and he supported crossdressers and drag queens alike. But he could never imagine himself doing something so.... _odd_ to him. He was an all-business kind of man who wanted equal rights! Not some dancer at a gay bar. Yet he.... It just felt so right. He felt.... _attractive_.

His grip tightened on the tube of lipstick as he slowly applied it to his own lips. It felt strange, nothing like the chapstick he usually put on in the mirror. Eyeliner was applied, and it made his eyes really pop. This felt so natural. The applying, the look... He liked it. Enjolras nearly liked it more than debates or Robespierre.

But he would keep it a secret.

No one could find out that Enjolras wore dresses.

And _liked_ it.


	2. Grantaire Gets a Job -- Of Course It's At A Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras likes to go out.

_Club Musain._

That was the place Enjolras had found on the internet.

It was a bar not too far away from where he lived, and it welcomed gays and drag queens and transexuals with open arms. There, Enjolras could do what he wanted. His friends knew nothing about it. He could wear anything he wanted, be whoever he wanted. He wasn't there to flirt, of course. But he wanted to be able to leave the confines of his room and wear what he wanted without being judged by his friends. Not that his friends were cruel, of course. They just wouldn't let him live this down.

So on a Saturday night, Enjolras decided he was going to attend a "debate." Or so he told Jehan.

He and Jehan lived in a small condo above a coffee shop that was run by Courfeyrac, Eponine, and Cosette. Their apartment was quite tidy, and Jehan had pretty much planted about ten dozen flower pots throughout just the living room itself. There were at least twenty more plants throughout the house. Enjolras' room did contain one plant, which was a bright red tulip.

As Enjolras exited the apartment with his bag of clothing to change into later, he received a text message.

 **Grantaire** : hey guess wat

Enjolras sighed. Always a guessing game.

_I give up already. What is it, R?_

**Grantaire** : i got a job :)

This made Enjolras pause as he strolled down the sidewalk. Grantaire got a job? A real paying job? Even if it was at a conveniant store or a pizza delivery place, it was still quite impressive. Grantaire never really did anything except drink and paint and sleep.

_Congratulations._

Enjolras replied quickly before turning his phone off. He had arrived at the club, which was blasting music. At the moment, Ke$ha was belting out about eating her lover. The place was packed, but it was obvious he had come to the right place. Drag queens were streaming in and out, lesbians were smoking outside with their girlfriends, and flaming gay guys were drinking and stripping simultaneously.

This was definitely just like the crowd he was friends with. He could handle this.

Stepping into the building, the music volume increased by 10,000. The blonde somehow managed to make it to the bathroom, and he emerged the men's room as a full blown woman. Of course, he was missing the breasts, but he was close.

Enjolras now began to meander about, gently bobbing his head to the music. Of course, his guilty pleasure song came on. How could he resist _Marina and The Diamond's_ song Bubblegum Bitch? It was practically his anthem. According to Courfeyrac, at least.

Enjolras now strolled up to the bar, his eyes searching out the place for any seemingly friendly faces. Perhaps he could find someone who also enjoyed a good political debate.

"Fancy seeing you here, Enjolras. I didn't think you'd come to see me at work. I'm touched!"

The blonde leader now froze. That voice was incredibly familiar. Too familiar, really.

Of course it was Grantaire. Who else would bartend in such a place? None other than Grantaire. Enjolras silently swore. There was no point in hiding it now, he supposed. His secret was out.

"Yes, of course. I even dressed the part as well. Aren't you pleased? You should be grateful."

Grantaire only laughed, making him a Shirley Temple with a dash of vodka. "On the house." The cynic murmured to him as he slid the drink over. He said nothing about his attire, which surprised Enjolras to no end.

"Well, since you're here. Want to dance with me? I can get Jacqueline to stand in for me real quick." Grantaire's grin widened a bit as he extended a hand across the bar. Enjolras' wary eyes only made him snicker.

"Just one dance. Come on, Apollo. No need to be frightened. I don't bite. Much." This made a pink dust over Enjolras' features. He was glad it was semi-dark in the club.

"I don't see why not." Enjolras finally sighed, moving to the dance floor with the curly-haired alcoholic.

Grantaire was a surprisingly good dancer. He moved nicely, hips gyrating with the music. It practically hypnotized Enjolras. He managed to move with him a bit awkwardly. He still wasn't used to these heels.

One dance turned into two. Then three. Then seven. And Grantaire still never said a word. This puzzled Enjolras. It was quite a sight, seeing Enjolras so vulnerable. He looked smaller, even though he was taller with heels. He seemed so lithe and feminine, not at all like the leader he always appeared to be. Enjolras decided he would say something.

"You're not saying anything. Why?"

Grantaire looked at the ceiling, and Enjolras thought perhaps the alcoholic had not heard him. About to repeat it, Grantaire now spoke.

"Because I don't think I need to say anything. I mean, you're still Enjolras, yes? Just with lipstick and heels. It's nothing really. You see some crazy shit in here, and this is the craziest. But I'm not a complete asshole, so I won't say anything. Just a heads up, that Courfeyrac DJs here on Wednesdays."

Enjolras actually smiled. And he actually laughed.

"Well.... Thank you. I appreciate that. A very kind thing to do."

They now went quiet, dancing up on each other now. They were mere centimeters apart, though Enjolras was perfectly oblivious. All he recognized was the warmth emanating from the alcoholic and the beat of the music.

And then there was a taste of whiskey on his tongue. And it took him a moment to process that Grantaire was actually kissing him. Which kind of came out of nowhere, but was he really truly complaining? Not really. The taste was kind of inviting. It was so.... Grantaire.

And so they kissed, in the middle of the dance floor. They could've easily been a straight couple amidst gays, going completely unnoticed.

* * *

 

Two days after the makeout session in Club Musain, Enjolras entered Cafe ABC to a bunch of giggling grown men. And then he saw the picture Jehan was holding.

After a moment of silence, Enjolras bellowed loudly.

_"COURFEYRAC, YOU ARE DEAD!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't get the end, this is it. 
> 
> Grantaire mentioned that Courf DJs at the club sometimes, and so you can therefor infer that the picture was either of Grantaire and Enjolras making out, or of Enjolras in his drag. c: Hope that cleared it up for you.


End file.
